Go1Interessante Besprechung im New York Magazine: Lurching toward Vegas
Listening to Born to Die, it turns out, is a lot like watching the movie Showgirls — right down to the cigar-chomping bad men and swimming pools that populate both — only as told from the point of view of some moonier, more passive woman in the corps behind Elizabeth Berkeley. The album should come with a drinking game, like one DVD edition of Showgirls did. It already shares a number of qualities with a drunk person. It repeats itself often, the same stock phrases popping up in song after song. It swings from lively, upbeat teasing to sad, torpid moans, and it’s usually the latter that’s tedious. (Some of the torch songs in the middle, like “Million Dollar Man,” are a handy reminder that Fiona Apple will be releasing new music this year, and it’ll be much better at this sort of thing.) And it stumbles, often. One critic compared it to “a drunk chick at the bar trying to convince someone to come home with her,” and maybe that’s true — maybe she tries to whisper a come-on and hiccups in someone’s ear instead, or attempts a seductive pose and winds up falling over. And maybe, to some, that drunk girl’s an annoyance or an embarrassment, but Del Rey clearly loves her.
:lol:
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Ohne Musik ist alles Leben ein Irrtum.